You know, besides that.
My linguine smells amazing. The perfect blend of light garlic and cheese mixes with the cooked shrimp. I’m a huge seafood lover, so I made sure to do my research on what I can and cannot have while pregnant. The good news is, as long as my shrimp is cooked, I can still enjoy it in moderation. The best part is their linguine sauce isn’t made from wine—another huge plus, considering the bun in my oven.
Just before I dig my fork into my noodles, Harrison grabs everyone’s attention. “If I could take a quick moment to share one more piece of good news before we eat, I think now is the time.”
Setting my fork down, I turn to face him. “Now?” I whisper, my mouth watering and my stomach growling for food.
He gives me a smile and wink and confirms, “Now.” Harrison takes my hand once more and brings it to his lips. His eyes remain locked on mine as he opens his mouth. “Winnie and I wanted to share that we’re making you grandparents at the end of the year.”
I hear the gasp first (undoubtably from my mother), followed quickly by the squeal of excitement. Chairs scrape on the floor, but I keep my eyes on the man beside me, lost in the sea of emotion we seem to be riding on these last few months. I’m pulled into a pair of arms, wrapped in the familiar perfume that belongs to my mom. Finally, Harrison lets go of my hand and I quickly stand, engulfed in a fierce hug.
“I can’t believe this! Grandma!” my mom bellows, loud enough that I know the entire restaurant has heard.
Before I can even respond, I’m tugged into another pair of arms, this time belonging to my former mother-in-law, Sarah. “I’ve always wanted to be a Mimi,” she whispers, her tears of happiness sliding effortlessly down her cheeks.
When she finally lets go, it only takes a moment for her arms to be replaced with the ones that offered me continual support and congratulations throughout my childhood. My dad pulls me in tight, and there’s no missing the wetness pressed between our cheeks. “Congratulations, baby girl.”
“Thanks, Dad,” I whisper, holding on just a little longer to the man who has been by my side my entire life. The one who accepts the direction my life is headed, even if he wants to step in to protect me.
“You’re gonna be an amazing mama,” he reassures, kissing me on the cheek before finally letting go.
When I step back, I’m surprised to see so many tears of joy. Even Adam’s eyes glisten under the low lighting. “Well, let’s not let our food get cold,” Harrison’s dad says. “I’m sure our grandbaby is hungry.”
As if on cue, my stomach growls, making everyone chuckle. I take my seat, anxious to dive back into my food. Before I can shovel in my first bite, my dad raises his glass. “I’d like to make a toast. To Harrison and Gwen. May their future be filled with love and laughter and may they find happiness in each other’s arms. And to the unborn baby they will bring into this world and nurture. Well, there will be no baby loved and cherished more than this child. Cheers.”
“Cheers.”
Chapter 13
Harrison
* * *
Time is flying by at a rapid pace. Seems like just a few weeks ago, we were hearing our peanut’s heartbeat for the first time. Now here we are sitting in the waiting room for Winnie’s sixteen-week appointment. Sixteen weeks and my girl has a noticeable baby bump. Seems like overnight Peanut has made an appearance, and I can’t keep my hands off her. Luckily, Winnie humors me and just grins every time my hands or my lips attach themselves to her tiny bump.
“How are you feeling today?” I ask.
“The same as when you left for work this morning,” she teases.
“That was four whole hours ago. A lot can change in four hours. Look what four weeks have done.” I reach over and place my palm flat on her tiny bump.
“Four weeks and four hours, the same but different, right?” She laughs.
“Exactly.” I wink, letting her know I get it. I know I’m a crazy man when it comes to my wife, yes wife, and unborn child. I own that and make no apologies. They’re everything to me. Sure, we’re not technically married, but I don’t need that piece of paper saying so. I know it in my heart.
“Gwen,” the nurse calls.
I stand quickly and offer Winnie my hand. “I don’t need help out of chairs, just yet,” she reminds me.
“Doesn’t matter. If I’m here, you’re getting my help.”
“See what I deal with?” She points over her shoulder at me as she talks to the nurse.
“He’s one of the good ones,” she assures her.
I place my palm on the small of Winnie’s back and follow her down the hall. “I know the drill. Which room?” I ask the nurse as we stop at the scale.
“Room two.”
“Love you.” I don’t bother lowering my voice as I say the words, and kiss her temple before leaving her to step on the scale, and pee in a cup.
As soon as I’m sitting in the room, my cell rings. Pulling it out, I see that it’s Gina. I silence the call, making sure my phone is on vibrate, and slide it back into my pocket. There’s nothing at work that can’t wait twenty minutes for this appointment. Immediately my cell rings again, but I ignore it. The third time, I slide it out of my pocket.
“What?” I say, irritated.
“Harrison, the contractor for the Lakeview location just called. He needs your final paint choices,” Gina says, clearly ignoring my irritation.
“Gina,” I say through gritted teeth, just as the exam room door opens, “I told you not to bother me, that Winnie and I had an appointment today. The contractor can wait. I don’t consider paint colors to be an emergency.” She starts to speak, but I hang up on her. I don’t care what her reasons are; they’re not good enough.
“Gina?” Winnie asks.
“Unfortunately,” I say, running my fingers through my hair. “I told her not to call unless it was an emergency. She called three times back to back, so I answered.”
“And?” she prompts.
“Paint colors.”
“Not an emergency,” she agrees.
“Not even close. I swear she tries my patience. Did I tell you she had a meeting scheduled for this exact time today with the equipment company? Had I not been paying attention I would have stood them up. I caught it and called them myself to explain and reschedule.”
“She knew about the appointment?”
“Yes. It’s on my calendar, the one she has full access to.”
“Knock, knock,” Dr. Taylor says, entering the room. “How are Mom and Dad?” she asks politely.
My heart squeezes in my chest at being referred to as Dad. It’s something we talked about, and I know it’s happening—I see the proof in the changes in my wife’s body, have heard our baby’s heartbeat—but to be called Dad, it’s surreal and exciting.
I sit down while Dr. Taylor goes through the same routine as our last checkup four weeks ago. Asking Winnie the usual questions, she takes measurements. The doctor pulls the Doppler from the cabinet and I can’t stand to sit here this far away from them. Standing, I go to Winnie, kissing her temple and clasping her hand in mine, while we listen to the ste
ady thunderous beat that is Peanut’s heartbeat.
“Everything looks great,” Dr. Taylor says, handing Winnie paper towels to wipe off her belly. I intercept them and do it for her. I can’t explain it, but there’s something inside me that swells with pride at the chance to take care of them. When I think about getting to do it every day for the rest of my life, it’s humbling.
“So, we’ll see you back in four weeks. We’ll do an ultrasound at that appointment and get some images of your baby. We can usually determine the gender at that time as well if that’s something that you’re interested in.”
Winnie looks up at me with question in her eyes. “Whatever you want, Winnie.”
She bites down on her bottom lip, trying to hide her smile. “I’d like to know, so we can paint the nursery and be as prepared as possible,” she says.
“Then we find out.” I kiss the top of her head. I’ve always had a hard time keeping to myself when she’s near, but this time around, it’s worse. So much worse. I have to be near her, to be touching her. It’s almost as if I’m fearful she’ll disappear if I don’t. I know that’s irrational as we’re in this together. Stronger than ever. But the constant worry of her and the baby, of losing either of them again, eats me up inside. I never want to be without her. Ever.
“Do you have time for lunch?” Winnie asks as we walk out of the doctor’s office.
“I’ll make time,” I assure her, leading her to my truck.
“Harrison, we don’t have to. I know how busy you are. It was just a suggestion.”
“A great one at that. I’m taking my wife to lunch.” I open the door for her and motion for her to climb in.
“How about we eat at the restaurant around the corner from the gym? You can then go straight to work after.”
“Winnie, it’s fine.”
“I’ll see you there.” She waves over her shoulder and turns to her car. Quickly closing the passenger door on my truck, I rush to catch up with her. “What are you doing?” she asks, laughing.